


Vanishing Point

by themuller



Category: James Bond (Craig movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Sentinels & Guides, Guide!M, Guide!Q, M/M, Sentinel!Alec Trevelyan, Sentinel!Bond, Spirit Animals
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-03
Updated: 2017-07-10
Packaged: 2018-11-22 20:46:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,108
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11388075
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/themuller/pseuds/themuller
Summary: Being a sentinel has its advantages in the field. Being soulbonded with another sentinel... not so much. When Alec zones out on a mission, it means trouble for his relationship with Bond.





	1. Prologue

It happened at a critical point in their mission. Alec was hiding behind a turned over oak desk and Bond was on the other side of the room, trying to keep the guards out of the way for Alec to get the crucial papers from the safe behind him. Alec was calculating his next moves, how to open the safe, get the papers, hide behind the desk and help Bond shoot their way out of here. Instead of acting, Alec kept turning the moves over and over and over in his mind. The shouts and sounds of bullets being fired and hitting the wall around him merged into a humming melody, drawing him further into his mind. The black wolf was lying at his feet, watching him attentively. Everything around Alec seemed to slow down. From the corner of his eyes he saw the grey wolf moving towards him, slowly, cautiously. It was watching the other wolf, waiting for something.

Alec kept perfectly still, now registering his surroundings with eerie detailing. The smell when a bullet hit the wall, compared to the smell of broken oak where another bullet found its mark. The difference in sound when a shot came from the Walther PPK instead from one of the other weapons. His breathing slowed, his focus was narrowing down. Now, he was solely concentrating on the grey wolf, which seemed to become more and more agitated as if wanting the black wolf to do something. But the black wolf just kept lying still, its head on its front paws, its ears at attention.

The next shot was a hit. Alec’s right shoulder was thrown back, the right side of his chest numb from the impact. He looked up and saw Bond indicating the wall behind him, shouting something, then ducking back behind an overturned cabinet. Alec shook his head and began to move, sluggish at first, still fighting to return from the zone. Despite his wound, he managed to open the safe and get the papers. Bond and him were halfway down the corridor, running towards the nearest exit, when Alec finally started to feel the burn of the wound. He was losing blood, fast. Bond grabbed him by his arm and dragged him violently after him, pushing him through the doors in an attempt to get both of them out of danger.

Boothroyd was livid. The normally quiet and calm quartermaster was anything but. Bond had already torn out his earpiece, but Alec was still too befuddled to realise that the long string of rather interesting curses and swearwords were directed at him and his less than stellar performance right now.

When they had made it to the escape car, Bond literally threw Alec into the passenger seat and was speeding out of the compound before finally turning to him with a nervous frown on his face.

“What happened back there, Alec?”

Alec had finally kicked himself into action and was tearing his shirt into strips to be used as a compress on the bullet wound. He kept silent while Bond threw the car around a bend with screeching tires, accelerating hard immediately afterwards. It was not the pain or the beginning dizziness from the blood loss which kept Alec quiet. Bond knew what had happened. Both of them had experienced zoning out before. Psych had kept at them for years. Being a sentinel had its advantages in the field. Due to their heightened senses they were far better equipped to succeed with their missions, as their records did show. But this sensibility had its drawbacks. Zoning out was one of the main problems. Being a couple, like Bond and him, could help with the worst side effects of being an unguided sentinel, but zoning out was definitely not on that list.

Both Bond and Alec knew what this latest incident meant. M would split them, demanding for them to find a guide each if they wanted to continue their work at MI6. They had both known it would come to this in the end. Normally, a sentinel agent would be paired with a guide early in their twenties. They were both nearing their mid-thirties as it was. It was a miracle they had made it this far.

“You know what happened,” was all Alec bid out.

He was not prepared to have that conversation now. He couldn’t, wouldn’t imagine how he was supposed to continue without Bond. In his mind, they were a unit, they belonged together. Tearing them apart, forcing them to break their soulbond to commit to an unknown guide—he had avoided that thought for the past decades.

Bond kept quiet, focussed on the driving and getting instructions from Boothroyd after he had put the earpiece back in its place. Alec concentrated on staying conscious and awake. They had reached the small airplane, ready to take them back to England and Alec had been able to walk up the few steps and into the plane, before he collapsed and everything went dark around him.


	2. Chapter 2

When Alec chose to sit down in one of the leather chairs in M’s office, Bond realised the seriousness of their situation. He remained standing in the middle of the room. It had been less than three days since they had returned from their mission. A succes as far as the information gathered was concerned. But the dressing around Alec’s shoulder was a stark reminder of their almost failure. His blood loss had been servere and paired with Alec’s far too pessimistic approach to life, Bond knew it would take more than just a few weeks to get him back in the field.

“This cannot continue, gentlemen,” M’s voice was knifelike and her stern look even made Bond’s skin crawl.

Alec just seemed to deflate further in the chair.

“You both have an appointment with Psych.”

When Bond started to protest, M lifted her hand and cut him off.

“No discussion, 007! I want a thorough assessment of both of you—“

“To find a proper guide for each of us!”

Bond’s voice was louder, sharper than he had intended. This was what Alec had been babbling on about in his half conscious state on the plane, while Bond held his hand, hoping the blood would stop flowing, that they would make it back in time. He had felt Alec’s fear, felt the life drain from him through their bond. This bond which had kept them alive for so many years, giving them an advantage over their enemies. They always knew where the other was, had an almost telepathic connection. Now, it was this very bond, which would tear them apart.

M’s look would have killed a lesser man, but Bond stood his ground, fighting down the panic he felt crashing into his body. Alec had turned his head away, unable to look at Bond or M. His face was ashen and his left hand was pressed against his right shoulder. Bond wanted to reach out for him but M stopped him with a lifted eyebrow. With gritted teeth, Bond crossed his arms in front of him, staring directly at M.

“Take the tests, separately,” M added. “You will not be allowed to reenter active service without them.”

Looking from Alec to Bond, M pinched her nose and sighed.

“Bond, you’re sentinels. I have a bunch of scientists who would love to get their hands on both of you to turn you into lab rats, because this,” she waved a hand between the two of them, “this thing you have with each other.”

She leaned back in her chair, her stern features softening briefly.

“It had worked for you. But you knew how this would end. In the history of MI6—hell, in the history of mankind—no sentinel has ever made it past their thirties before being paired with a guide. And with good reason.”

M sat up and her look became grim once more.

“I won’t risk another mission because of this.”

She considered both of them.

“You know the effects a prolonged zoning has on your brain. What happened to Trevelyan might already have done some damage. Another incident like this, and Trevelyan—well. I won’t risk it.”

Bond huffed and earned another reproachful look.

“As if that ever had stopped you, Ma’m.”

The last word added as if an afterthought. He knew they had to do the tests. He himself was nervous about Alec having suffered damage to his brain. It was the inevitability of it all which had his hackles rising. He wanted to fight against it, hit something, scream, anything but this inability to prevent them from being ripped away from each other.

When nothing more was forthcoming, Bond stood and helped Alec up. He looked utterly defeated and the panic from before had been replaced with a numbness, Bond knew too well. Alec had been betrayed and left behind by so many people and institutions throughout his childhood and younger years, no wonder this felt like a continuation of a far too wellknown pattern by now.

Bond had a hard time convincing himself of a solution which would keep Alec and him together as a unit. A bond between a sentinel and their guide was far deeper than any connection other people would be able to form between them. And it would override any other kind of relationship a person had encountered before.

Thus, like two broken soldiers they limped out of the office and passed Moneypenny without even an acknowledging nod. Bond just wanted to get home, to take care of Alec while he still could.


	3. Chapter 3

M sat back in her chair with a deep sigh and closed her eyes. She was getting too old for this. After a few moments, she took a deep breath. Through the intercom she asked Moneypenny to come with tea, Earl Grey specifically. M looked through the files of her two agents while waiting. When Moneypenny brought the tea, M just motioned toward the small table between the two large arm chairs in the corner of her office. Without a word, Moneypenny retreated, and M pushed the middle of the hidden buttons underneath her desk. A small door in the back of the panelled wall opened.

“Come in, Ethan.”

Her voice was quiet and she sounded as tired as she felt. She looked up when the young man entered the room silently. He looked around as if expecting someone to hide behind the heavy furniture.

“They’re gone, Ethan.”

“The wolves as well?”

He had a pleasant, low-pitched voice.

“You saw them?”

M indicated for him to sit in one of the large armchairs. She opened one of the drawers in the desk and took out a bottle of Lagavulin and a glass.Then she went over to sit opposite Ethan in the other chair.

“No, just felt them. They are strong, both of them.”

“Yes,” M fell silent for a moment, pouring herself a glass of whisky. “I don’t think I’ll be able to find a second guide. Someone who would be able to cope with the other one as well.”

Ethan contemplated M’s word, holding the cup of tea in his hand.

“You’ll be sacrificing one of them? Wouldn’t the other one refuse to work for you?”

M closed her eyes.

“I can’t let them continue like this, Ethan. And if you manage to bond with one of them—it may take some time, but no, he wouldn’t turn down the work. Not in the long run. Both of them need the work. It takes precedence over anything else.”

Ethan sipped his tea, in deep thought.

“I won’t be able to make the choice for them. But you know that, don’t you?”

“I know. But it must be done. You must find a way to make them choose.”

“Oh, that won’t be a problem, mother,” Ethan said with an almost smile. “It’s the aftermath, I’m uncomfortable with.”

M watched a small black cat walk under the desk. Her eagle owl was throning on one of the other chairs, watching the cat with a restraint interest.

“She’s so small,” M said, frowning. “Why is she still so small?”

“I don’t know, mother.”

Ethan watched the cat stroll towards the owl, jumping up on the chair and without any hesitation, snuggle in between the owls large claws and soft feathers. The owl was not moving, just blinked slowly with her large eyes as if pretending not to care what the cat was doing.

“I’m fine. He,” Ethan paused. “He was good for me. We weren’t a perfect match. I think that’s why she hasn’t grown much.”

“You were too young, Ethan.”

M didn’t look at her son. She held her glass with both hands, elbows resting on her knees, lost in thought.

“Mother,” Ethan had reached out and tentatively put a hand on M’s shoulder. “He was good for me. He taught me so much—how to control this. How to take care of myself, block out the world if need be.”

When M just shook her head, Ethan sat back in his chair and took another sip of tea.

“Look at her. She is content now. It’s been a year.”

M turned her head and looked at her son. At a glance, he looked young, in his early twenties. But small crinkles, lines carved by laughter more than sorrow, the solemn look in his eyes hidden behind glasses, presented an older, maybe even wise man.

“They don’t know you’re a guide, do they?”

Ethan tried to change the subject, but M could hear a genuine curiosity in his question. He had never been at MI6 before. She had kept him away from this part of her life, hoping she would be able to protect him from the this dark side of government and society. It was a necessity, but took its toll on everyone who had to make decisions about life and death.

“Only very few people here know. And it’s better this way.”

“You would be strong enough to be a guide for one of them.”

It was an innocent suggestion. Something, M herself had given a bit of thought. Again, she shook her head.

“It wouldn’t work out. Not in my position. I’m not even sure we would be compatible.”

Ethan watched her closely. She had to look away. He knew her too well.

“You still miss father.”

She shrugged. Yes, she missed him. Every day, every hour. When he died, she had thrown herself into work, had climbed the ladder, become head of MI6 in no time. She was respected and known for her ruthlessness, towards herself as well as her employees. Her son had been a well guarded secret. But she couldn’t lose both of her best agents. Not now, with the challenges facing England and the world. And Ethan would be a valuable asset for the agency.

She poured another glass of whisky and allowed herself to relax a bit. Ethan took some more tea and together they started reminiscing about a time, when the world had been a more peaceful place.


	4. Chapter 4

Alec was terrified. Not one word was said while Bond was driving them through London. In an unspoken agreement they made their way up into their bedroom once they arrived home. No glance was exchanged as they stood in the room, facing away from each other. The pain in Alec’s shoulder was grounding, somehow keeping the mounting panic at bay.

Every small detail in the room stood out to Alec as he looked anywhere but Bond. The large windows, facing south with a wide view over the Thames and the London Eye; the smell of detergent, a different brand from last time they came home; the functional furniture, barely used; white walls, shadows being cast by their bodies—

“Stop it!”

Bond’s voice cut through Alec’s mind like a diamond through glass. Alec’s hands were clenched into fists and his body trembling. Bond was standing close, too close, right up in Alec’s personal space. Challenging. Provoking Alec into action.

Still, Bond had to take the first step. Closing the space between them, he took Alec’s face in his hands and kissed him open mouthed, pushing against the closed lips forcefully. Now, Alec retaliated. Opening his lips, his tongue found its way into Bond’s mouth. Sucking, biting into lips, grabbing shirts with eager hands, tearing fabric apart, buttons falling to the floor as their clothes became an unsalvageable mess of ripped and shredded textiles.

They smelled and tasted each other, the sweat, the fear, the need, and want. Entangled in each others naked body, wrangled down on the floor, fighting for the upper hand. Saliva and blood mixed with tears, the pain in Alec’s shoulder cutting through the haze like lighting on the night sky. Beautiful and terrifying, purifying in its intensity. Alec heaved for air, to control the pain, to forget, to remember. His fingers dug into strong muscles, leaving trails of crescents on Bond’s back. Drizzles of blood, painting the white bedsheets with a deep red, the colour of their relationship, telling the tale of trust and loyalty, hope and despair. Iron, salt, musk, the sweeter smell of semen—the scents enveloped them, propelling them forward by their desperation and rage, driving them into a furious crescendo.

Alec smelled and tasted blood when he cried out his climax. Bond followed with his teeth buried in Alec’s good shoulder, grunting out his release, mingling their come between their frantically moving bodies.

When they finally stilled and their breathing had slowed, the usual smile and laughter of the afterglow was replaced by silent tears and a snifling nose, which had Alec angrily shoving the back of his hand across his face. Bond held him down, his body draped across Alec’s, his face buried in the pillow beside Alec’s neck. When he finally rolled of off him, Bond’s face was red as well, his eyes dry.

The room was utter chaos, as was Alec’s mind. The bliss of deepening their connection seemed like a long lost fight against the inevitability of the curse being a sentinel. He was too exhausted to think about possible solutions or the upcoming psych evaluations. All he wanted was to crawl into Bond’s embrace, to be held and kept safe.

Bond stood up and made a token effort of cleaning both of them. Like Alec, he was too tired to resist his growing despair. He managed to get Alec to take some pain killers, before he pulled him into a tight embrace, arranging the soiled blankets around them—and both of them fell into an uneasy sleep.


End file.
